Kwanzaa is wack. The other day I said this on my Facebook page. Actually, what I said was: “Is it wrong of me to say that I love Africa, but I think Kwanzaa is wack? #ducksfromthebricks.”

Now, when I said it, I meant it but gave no thought to how it might affect people. I’m kind of bad like that. A ton of people (some Black and some not) got on and said they thought Kwanzaa was wack too. I never thought about it again really. Just a funny little thread.

Then someone got real upset. I felt bad about that, truly. But the reality is that Kwanzaa was created by an FBI informant named Dr. Maulana Karenga. Straight up! That’s an actual fact. Beyond that, stuff like corn that is used in a lot of the rituals is not even native to Africa. A friend of mine noted “it’s truly corny.”

Now hold on. I did participate in a few Kwanzaa events back when ‘89 was the number. I always tried to do observe it. But once I did the history on its founder and some of the deeper elements of its hollow cultural base, it was hard to continue on. For those who do, I promise I’m not mad at you. Not that you would care. But you can’t get your kente cloth all in a bunch because I’m not feeling it.

Look, I love Africa and what it means to be black. I love almost everything African (aside from the tribal fighting and the needless murder and rape of women across the continent). But Kwanzaa is not African. I never knew an African (from any part of the continent) who was like “Yo Adisa, bro you wanna slide thought to the Kwanzaa fest playa?” It has never happened! They don’t get down like that.

Kwanzaa is like a bad weave. People might kinda like it, but we all know it ain’t real. Now, I live on the West coast, in the Bay Area. The only people I see really on some Kwanzaa “ish” are the hardcore revolutionary types you might find at the Berkeley flea market selling incense and shea butter soap (which they might consider using on themselves).